


why did you have to betray him?

by luxettenebrae



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, Coughing, Doubt, F/M, Flowers, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Hanahaki Disease, Happy Ending, Insecurity, Language of Flowers, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Mild Blood, Multi, Pain, Pining, Romance, Sad with a Happy Ending, Self-Doubt, Suffering, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:33:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23823880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luxettenebrae/pseuds/luxettenebrae
Summary: When you finish coughing, there’s that same taste in your mouth again, and your chest is sore. You rub it in hopes of alleviating any amount of the pain, but it’s useless. If it were that easy, you wouldn’t be coughing, to begin with. You lick your lips and then become aware of something, some foreign entity in your mouth. You open your mouth and let it fall into your hand.It flutters gently, despite the violence and agony it signified.A petal.-----MC/Reader has Hanahaki's for Leviathan.
Relationships: Leviathan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!) & Reader, Leviathan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader
Comments: 18
Kudos: 314





	why did you have to betray him?

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to post this while the current flower event is still going on, even though I'm not really satisfied with it yet. But I don't think I'll become satisfied with it with more time, so here it goes; I'll probably write another one of these in the future. Maybe. If I get the time and don't get caught up in my 9384849283 other WIPs and ideas that I have.  
> Honestly, I feel like the idea of this was so much better than what I ended up writing, but whatever. I could care less at this point. Have a ball with it, or print it out and crumple it and burn it in a fire. Anything is fine. But if you tell me you did the latter, I might cry, haha. So keep it to yourself if you do decide to flame it in the scorching fires of hell-uh, the Devildom.

“Sorry, Levi, not today.” 

You shut the door in his face, and Levi feels his heart sink for what feels like the hundredth time in the past month. It’s not like he’s been counting, but even with all the years he’d been alive, it sure seemed like a whole lot of rejections in such a short amount of time. 

He had even gone as far as to go knock on your door and ask in person—but you had still turned him down. Sighing, he trudges back to his room. Levi’s not sure why he’s so surprised. Or disappointed. Because this is only natural, only expected, that you wouldn’t want to hang out with someone like him. A repulsive otaku shut-in. There was no reason for you to want to hang out with him in the first place. He should be surprised that you’d even hung out with him before you started rejecting him. 

Maybe it was time for him to give up on asking. He shouldn’t harbor hope in his chest anymore, no matter how badly he wants to spend time with you, to see your smile, hear your tumbling laugh, look into your shining, bright eyes. The times he did get to spend with you, it almost felt like all of that, all of you had been meant just for him. For him, and him alone. 

But he supposed that ended today. Or, rather, it had ended weeks ago. Levi couldn’t help it if you’d realized that you didn’t want to hang out with him. It had only been a matter of time. And the time had finally come. 

He shuffles into his room morosely and shuts the door. Only the sound of the aquarium is here in his room, a quiet, calm, trickling sound, constant, almost unnoticeable. But in the face of your absence, it was loud. It isn’t silent, but it's quiet enough in his room that the space feels glum. 

Levi stands in front of his shelves of discs and runs his fingers along the sides of each one, the smooth plastic cool under his touch. He’ll pick lively music to listen to today, he thinks to himself. Sucre Frenzy’s newest album would do just fine. But instead, he ends up pulling out a Bithir Gloom album. He frowns but slides it into the CD player anyway. Maybe it was fine to wallow in this misery. Just for a little while. 

Although he knows a little while always ends up being a long time, ranging anywhere from a month to a century. It’s his nature, isn’t it? At least, that’s what he always told himself. It made him feel better if he couldn’t help it; if it was a part of him. He couldn’t deny the nature of his existence. 

Yes, he was the Avatar of Envy, and he was a repugnant, otaku hikikomori. 

His chest aches, and the sole sound of the melancholy piano drifts from the speakers faintly, discreetly filling the room with the elegiac, dark tones, like a mist of shadows engulfing him. 

He embraces it. As he always does. As he always will. 

It’s a part of him, after all. 

* * *

You’re hunched over at your desk, trying to distract yourself by studying as furiously as possible. 

From that incessant, severe pain. Or maybe, more accurately, from your flowering, profound feelings. 

No. You can’t think about that. You turn back to the textbook, Ancient Lore and Myths of the Devildom’s Cursed Artifacts, but it’s too late. 

Something is swelling within you. 

You let it because keeping it in would be more painful. 

You cough into your arm, and the action seems to take years off of your life. It’s a deep heaving of your lungs that, out of its pure force, makes the rest of your body quake violently for moments after it’s gone. 

On your tongue is the taste of iron. You want to dismiss it, to forget about it and go back to your work, but you stand and go to the bathroom instead, against your better judgment. 

The fluorescent lights burn into your skin, and you lean in toward the mirror over the sink. When you open your mouth, you see red. Crimson red. Not the muted, pinkish-red of your tongue and cheeks. 

Blood red. 

A chill rushes down your spine, and you close your mouth, swallowing dryly before realizing you should perhaps wash it out. With trembling fingers, you bring water to your lips and rinse. You spit out bloodied water, tarnished, impure, dirty, disgusting. You can’t bear to look at it, and you run water over the remnants in the bowl of the sink. No evidence could be left behind. No evidence of your burgeoning, vile feelings. Of your betrayal. You’re willing to die with that betrayal kept a secret. As long as he doesn’t know. 

Leviathan can never know that you love him. 

You amble back to your room and lay down on your bed, exhausted. 

Bad idea. 

You’re sitting up and hacking again before you know it. You’re not sure what it feels more like: being set aflame as the tongues of fire eagerly lap at your chest, or asphyxiating to death under the pressure of water and drowning. Take your pick. Not that there was much to pick between, anyway. It was both, and it was neither. It couldn’t be described, not really. Sensations like these could only be felt to be understood—although, no one would willingly accept that fate, knowing what it entails. You didn’t. You were dragged, kicking and screaming, and confined to it with heavy shackles that fettered your movement, kept you from escape, or any hint of freedom. You’d never asked for this, never wanted this, but here you were, regardless. 

When you finish coughing, there’s that same taste in your mouth again, and your chest is sore. You rub it in hopes of alleviating any amount of the pain, but it’s useless. If it were that easy, you wouldn’t be coughing, to begin with. You lick your lips and then become aware of something, some foreign entity in your mouth. You open your mouth and let it fall into your hand. 

It flutters gently, despite the violence and agony it signified. 

A petal. 

It’s a motley, striped purple, slightly long and oval, tapering off and curved outward. The first to appear. You’re not sure what flower it comes from, but you sense that it doesn’t bode well for you. Not that you couldn’t have already known that with all the blood you were coughing up and the pain that had persisted in your chest for a few weeks already. You were so, so tired. Nausea was rising from your throat, closing up. 

You stare at the offending petal. More evidence of your abominable love. Regret surges inside you. 

Why did you have to make this mistake? 

Why did you have to love him? 

Why did you have to betray him?

Tears bud in your eyes, and there’s nothing you can do but let them fall, bitter and full, unwarranted and yet irrepressible. Just like your feelings for him. Just like this pain. Just like-

You don’t finish that thought. It hasn’t happened yet. You’re still praying it won’t, even though you know there can be no other answer to the question of your fate. No other ending. 

You have no say in it, and you resent it. 

You curl up on your side and let yourself escape the pain of reality as you fall into a dreamless sleep. 

* * *

Waking up is excruciating. Because it’s then when you know that tomorrow has come and that another day awaits before you, full of tangles and roots waiting to trip you, to cling to you, to hurt you. Dread lives in you, but you’ve long grown numb to it. After all, this is reality. You’re not going to escape it. There’s nothing that convenient. It’s all you can do to just manage, day-to-day. 

You peel yourself from your bed and force yourself to go through the morning routine. Somehow, you make it to breakfast, where you slouch in your seat and pick at your food, slowly shoveling a few bites into your mouth. 

You glance up when Levi arrives and feel a pang of guilt. You had been avoiding him for weeks now. Well, for the few weeks since your chest had started to hurt because you had your suspicions, and you ended up being right. You had hoped to nip your flowery little problem in the bud, but clearly, it hadn’t worked. You supposed that wasn’t how it worked. You were supposed to not love someone in the first place. You couldn’t just unget feelings. It was a painful realization, both physically and emotionally. 

Then, you had wondered if you could just hang out with him, knowing what was going on—but then also realized that you would probably cough around him, which would raise questions and potentially expose you. That was the one thing that couldn’t happen. At this point, you couldn’t stop the growth, but you could keep him from knowing the truth. And that was what you were going to do. No matter what it cost. 

You have to admit that he doesn’t look too good today. Dark circles were under his eyes, and he looked like he was about to collapse—it seemed like a miracle he’d even gotten to the breakfast table today. He plops into his chair, not even sparing a look in your direction. You guess it only serves you right, after how you’ve been treating him the past few weeks. Each time you had to turn him down was like another barb in your heart, tightening around it and drawing blood. But there was nothing you could do. Perhaps it was selfish of you, to want to protect yourself from the imminent lash back of crossing the boundary you shouldn’t have. 

Of betraying his true friendship. 

You shake off your thoughts and clear your dishes. You glance at Levi again, who’s eating like a zombie while scrolling on his D.D.D., but ultimately scamper away. This was for the best—or at least, for you, it would be. You’re not sure what would hurt Leviathan more. Your betrayal, or your rejection. 

And you don’t think you want to know. Because you think you might know the answer, and confirming it would only deepen the wounds in your heart.

Levi has been in a haze ever since he woke up. He had hardly slept, having stayed up until the wee hours of the morning in his misery, and once he did sleep, he didn’t sleep well. He’d tossed and turned and overall had been half-conscious but also trapped in a darkness that he couldn’t navigate. 

He isn’t paying attention to anything. How could he? He’s not even sure what he’s eating right now, or what he’s looking at on Devilgram. All he’s aware of is this dull pain still in control of him, filtering the world around him, turning it all to darkness. 

“Levi.” 

He blinks slowly and lifts his head. Asmo is looking at him with a concerned face. 

“...What?” he mumbles. The words barely even leave his lips. 

“What’s going on? The two of you have been in a mood lately. Both of you came in looking like someone had broken your hearts and are generally listless.” 

He swallows the spoonful of—what even was it? Poison apple oatmeal with a smattering of sugared newt eyes? 

“What do you mean? Everything is fine.” 

But he knows he doesn’t sound convincing. He doesn’t believe those words himself, so how could he? The one thing that did surprise him was the fact that Asmo thought you were also dispirited. You were the one rejecting him, so how could you be unhappy? Consciously remembering what led to his current state only drives another stake into his chest. He winces. 

Asmo is peering at him like he’s transparent, surveying him closely with discerning gold eyes. Levi knows it’s never a good sign when Asmo looks at him like that. 

“No, it’s not. Your skin is rougher than usual. Come on, be honest with me. Something is going on, and it has to do with each other, doesn’t it?” Asmo puts a hand to his cheek in thought. “You two have barely been talking or spending time with each other in the past few weeks. Did you fight?” 

Leviathan stiffens. How was he supposed to answer that? He wasn’t even sure what exactly had happened. One day, you’d just stopped hanging out with him, and that was that. It hadn’t even petered out. He also hadn’t been able to recall anything particularly dumb or offensive that he’d done the time before it’d happened. He’d just assumed it was because he was—well, him. 

He bristles and throws Asmo a dirty look. 

“Why are you asking, anyway? Even if we did, it doesn’t involve you,” Levi grumbles. “But no. Not really. I don’t know. Don’t ask me anymore.” 

Asmo huffs and crosses his arms. 

“I’m your brother. I can’t not ask you when it’s been going on for this long. I’ve already been holding back, okay?” He looks around the room conspiratorially and then back at Levi. “Just for today, I’ll make an exception and skip school for you. You have to tell me what’s going on. It affects both of you, not just yourself.” 

Levi protests half-heartedly, but he’s shot down, as he knows he will be. Asmo is a lot pushier than he might seem, and he has to give in. He wonders if talking about it might help, although it seemed hopeless at this point. An unsalvageable situation. Or relationship. Whatever. The two of you had been true best friends, right? But then you’d just up and left, and now it was just him again. Alone. As he’d always been. As perhaps it always should have been, until you came and disrupted it. But it had been a welcome disruption, he thinks to himself longingly, his heart aching. 

Asmo follows Levi into his room, and they sit. Asmo’s orange eyes are serious, and his pink bangs sway slightly as he tilts his head, scrutinizing Levi. 

“You’re a wreck,” he says bluntly. “Tell me what’s going on. I don’t know isn’t an acceptable answer.” 

Levi sighs and slumps forward, resting his elbows on his knees. 

“I mean, I _don’t_ know,” he starts, but seeing Asmo’s face, continues hastily. “One day, they just stopped hanging out with me, and then it continued. And we haven’t talked much or spent time together since before that happened.” 

He sneaks a look at Asmo’s expression, which is disgruntled. Asmo seems to be in thought, puzzled. 

“Do you know why? Or have any ideas?” he prods. 

“If I knew why it would make this easier, wouldn’t it?” Levi exhales in frustration. “No, I don’t know why. I spent hours thinking about everything we did the last time we’d hung out and if I’d done anything dumb or offensive. But there was nothing different from usual. And it was sudden, too, when we stopped hanging out.” 

Asmo leans in curiously. 

“So it wasn’t gradual. Any other details?” 

The other demon blows his bangs up with a puff of air, out of his eyes. 

“No. Uh, I mean, I’ve asked to hang out multiple times. I even went in-person. And they said no, every single time.” He pauses. “Usually, they said it was because they were studying. Or they didn’t say why. But I mean, it’s no wonder they wouldn’t want to hang out with a disgusting otaku like me.” 

The sound of the aquarium water filter punctuates the silence as both sit in thought. 

“Did you notice anything weird about their behavior?” Asmo looks into Levi’s eyes. “Because I think something is up. I don’t think it’s because of you, or they wouldn’t have spent time with you before, either. They seem distracted all the time, and they’ve been shutting themselves in their room a lot more often, too.” 

Leviathan leans back, crossing his arms and thinking. Weird behavior? None that he could think of. Or anything that mattered. He frowns. 

“No, not really. Although I had wondered if they were sick because the other day I heard them coughing through the door of their room after they said they couldn’t hang out.” 

Something glints in Asmo’s eye, and Levi’s not sure he likes it. His palms are starting to get clammy, and he rubs them against his trousers clumsily. It doesn’t help, but he does it again anyway in vain. 

“Levi.” Asmo catches his attention and he freezes, looking up. “We need to talk to them. I don’t think they’re sick, exactly—not in the way you’re thinking.” 

Levi’s shoulders droop. How was he supposed to talk to you when he could scarcely get within a five-foot radius of you? That was too tall a task for him to accomplish. 

“You’ll have to talk to them alone,” he says dejectedly. “I’ve barely been able to talk to them, much less approach them the past few weeks. They hightail it immediately when I come into the picture.” 

Asmo sighs and shakes his head. 

“Alright, alright, fine. I’ll talk to them for you. You owe me,” he smirks. 

Levi opens his mouth to object—he doesn’t want to be in Asmo’s debt—but thinks better of it. This was the best chance he was going to get in terms of ever finding out what was going on, and why in Devildom you’d been avoiding him. He just nods. 

“Fine. But only if you get to talk to them and find out something.” 

Asmo laughs. 

“Of course. I’ll get the job done, don’t worry.” He stands and heads for the door. “I’ll let you know when I have. Or, preferably, I’ll send them your way so the two of you can talk.” 

Levi’s not so sure the second option is feasible, but he wants to hope that there’s still a chance, however slim it may be. 

“Okay.” He looks at Asmo. “...Thanks.”

Asmo just grins and winks at him and pops out of his room. 

Levi sits on his gaming chair, still feeling like he was half-dead. But at least he was a little less dead. Hopefully, Asmo would come back with news, whether good or bad. But he knows he shouldn’t hope. His hopes will only be crushed in the end, anyway. 

* * *

You’re walking back into the House of Lamentation after school and traipsing through the garden when someone calls out to you. You blink and turn. 

“...Asmo?” 

He smiles in that Cheshire cat way of his. 

“The one and only! Listen, let’s have a little chat. I noticed you haven’t been doing the best recently.” 

Before you can say no, he hooks an arm around yours and practically hauls you away and lets both of you into your room. You stumble in and sit on your bed as he closes the door. Your throat is tickling, and you take a sip of water from your water bottle. You can’t cough. Not while Asmo is here. He’s too astute. You know he’ll pick up on the reason straightaway. 

“So what do you want to talk about?” You eye him suspiciously. 

Asmo sits on your chair, and suddenly his eyes aren’t laughing anymore. 

“I know something’s not right. Tell me what’s going on.” 

You smile and play dumb. It was always the best tactic, especially when you didn’t know what cards your opponent held—in this case, what Asmo knew. 

“What are you talking about? I mean, my studies aren’t too great, but that’s nothing new.” 

He shakes his head, disapproval leaking into his voice. 

“You’re not doing anyone any favors by beating around the bush. You’ve been avoiding Levi.” 

You register his words, and half-relief, half-dread crawls into your heart. At least that seemed to be most of what he knew. You purse your lips. 

“...Well, I can’t deny that,” is all you can say. It wasn’t like you had any excuses for Asmo. 

“Why?” he presses. 

You fix your gaze to the floor and swing your legs back and forth. 

“I’m just trying to catch up with my studying. Lucifer will skin me and feed me to Cerberus if I don’t get my tasks done right. It’s a lot to manage, so I haven’t had time to hang out.” 

Asmo’s eyes are piercing. It’s an uncomfortable feeling, being stared at like that. But you also know that it’s not unusual, given the situation. 

“You’ve been so busy that you suddenly had to stop hanging out with him at all? For weeks?” His tone softens. “Tell me the truth. You know I won’t judge.” 

It’s true; Asmo had usually been an impartial bystander to all of the problems you’d encountered in the Devildom, a safe confidante and trustworthy. But you can’t tell him. No one can know. 

“There’s nothing to tell,” you insist, even though you know it sounds weak. Your lungs are itching. You hope Asmo leaves soon. You weren’t sure how long you could last without coughing. 

His face is skeptical. 

“I know something is going on.” He puts a hand on your shoulder soothingly. “You look like you’re going through a lot.” 

You glance up at him and then look away again. 

“It’s nothing. I just have to manage my tasks and studies. Which I should be doing now,” you hint. 

Asmo sighs. 

“No. Not right now. It can wait.” He smoothes a piece of your hair and then pulls back. “You’ve been coughing.” 

It’s a statement. Not a question. And you’re not sure what to make of it. You study him, but your silence speaks volumes. 

“...Did you hear me or something?” You run your fingers through your hair, distraught. “I’ve been keeping quiet. There’s no way…” 

He watches you panic with sadness etched on his features. 

“You’re not sick, are you?” A pause. “At least, not in a conventional way.”

Your eyes meet his, and a flash of understanding goes through you. He knows. He’s known all this time. He was just trying to pry it from your lips, to hear it directly from you. You feel nausea building inside, and almost immediately, as if on cue, you start coughing. The inside of your mouth feels sticky, and you rush to drink water and wash the blood down your throat before he can see anything. But you start coughing again, and he shifts, sitting next to you on the bed. Asmo places a hand on your back and rubs in soothing circles. It’s enough to make you want to cry, and you do. Through all those tears, you finally stop coughing. But something is in your mouth again. 

With cold, numbing dread, you part your lips, and it falls into your mouth. This time, it’s much bigger. It’s not a single petal, but the whole bloodied head of a decapitated flower and the sight clutches your heart as you realize what species it is.

“...Purple hyacinth.” 

You feel Asmo’s touch halt. His hand is simply resting on your back now. Before you can do anything, he’s plucked the flower from your hand, and you stretch to try and get it from him in desperation, even though you know it’s useless since he’s already seen it. 

He casts a knowing look at you. 

“This is why you’ve been coughing, isn’t it?” He knows the answer. You’ve never wanted to curse him more than you do now. “I’ll admit that my understanding of flower meanings is lacking, but it’s obvious who this is for, given your behavior.” 

You grit your teeth, but tears spring to your eyes again. A stray cough goes flying into your arm, and a few petals scatter onto the floor. They’re beautiful, that muted purple with hints of orchid mixed in, but dyed in its nature, cruelty, the red blood leaving stripes and dots across them, marring that beauty. 

You grab Asmo’s shoulders frantically and your shaking fingers sink into his suede jacket. 

“You can’t tell him!” You shake Asmo urgently. “Please, Asmo...you can’t.” 

Strength is leaving you in spades—any strength you’d had since you’d been condemned to your fate, anyway. You sink to your knees, and they knock against the floor with a thud. Everything hurts, but your chest hurts the most. You don’t know what you’re going to do. It’s hopeless. You’re sobbing, panicked, and Asmo kneels in front of you, rubbing your head. 

“Hey, breathe,” he urges. 

He waits until you calm down, and you shoot him a murderous look, however weakened the effect of your stare is by the watery veil upon it, blurring the edges of your vision. 

“You’re not going to tell him.” 

Asmo’s eyes meet yours. 

“No. _You_ are.” 

Suddenly, you’re laughing. But it’s a crazed, despairing laugh. 

“What gives you that idea?” You snort incredulously. “No. I can’t tell him. I won’t. Never.” 

His gaze hardens. 

“Even if you die?” 

You won’t back down. 

“Not over my dead body.” 

He pulls you to your feet and embraces you. His hug is warm and gentle, almost comforting in spite of what’s just happened. You’re still hurting. 

“You need to tell him. The worst that can happen is that he’ll say he doesn’t like you, and you won’t be any worse off than you are now.” He pulls back and pecks you on the cheek gently. “And if he says he does like you, then you won’t have to avoid him or cough anymore. And you’ll be alive. I don’t know about you, but I’d much prefer you alive in the Devildom than not. You’d probably get sent up to Heaven, anyway.” 

You can’t help but chuckle. 

“Who knows.” You sigh. “Asmo, I can’t tell him. We’ve been such good friends up until those few weeks ago. If I tell him I like him, it’s…” You trail off. 

Asmo purses his lips. 

“It’s?” 

“It’s betrayal,” you finish. “I’ll have been seeing him as something other than a friend. It’s a betrayal of the friendship we had. It’s better to be hated for the way I treat him than the way I love him.” Your eyes are still wet as you stare at Asmo, begging for him to understand. “Don’t you get it?”

He pets you on the head, and his eyes tell you what he thinks. That you’re being silly and worrying too much. 

“Oh, he’s not going to hate you even if he doesn’t like you back.” He smiles. “And he does like you, so there’s that. I guess that’s not my place to say—but in my opinion, it’s kind of obvious, although his affection seems to masquerade itself under the guise of friendship.” 

You furrow your eyebrows. 

“Asmo, I would know if he thought of me as anything more than a friend. Trust me. With all the time I’ve spent with him, I would know.” 

Asmo boops you on the nose, laughing. 

“You seem to have forgotten that I’ve spent thousands more years with him, while you’ve only spent a few months with him,” he reminds you gently. “You’re also just much denser than you think. You don’t see the way he looks at you. And even for a friend, he’s been moping around, absolutely heartbroken this entire time that you’ve been avoiding him.” 

You drop your gaze. 

“You’re right. But still. I don’t think he likes me that way. I know it’s selfish, but I can’t stand the thought of being hated for what I can’t even control, which is liking him to begin with.” 

“It’s not selfish. You’re just looking out for yourself,” Asmo relents. “But you’re not doing it in the right way. You should trust me. Just talk to him. If you don’t talk to him, I hate to say it, but I’ll tell him the truth for you.” 

You grab his hands, lacing his slender fingers with yours, and give him big puppy dog eyes, which he only laughs and shakes his head at. You pout. 

“Asmo, please! Just do me this one favor.” 

He’s adamant. 

“I think you forgot that you’re going to die if you don’t address this quickly. And I’m not about to let that happen. We’re going over to his room, right now.” 

You squeal as he picks you up and runs out of the room. He’s strong, even if he’s not ripped like Beel. 

“Asmodeus, stop! Put me down! You’re the worst, I swear,” you’re half-wailing at this point. But part of you might be relieved. Maybe you could just get it over with. And then you wouldn’t have to think about it anymore. You could die in peace, you supposed. Accept your death sentence. 

Asmo opens the door and shoves you inside, flashing a thumbs up at you and Leviathan, who’s sitting in his gaming chair, now upright, tense, and gawking. 

“Have a good talk!” 

He slams the door shut, and you turn back to Levi. Being in front of him is harder than you originally thought it’d be. Your chest twinges. 

“Levi, I…” 

The way he looks at you is so woeful. He’s wretched. He still looks as drained as he did this morning. All of the air seems to seep out of him as he sinks back against his chair, sighing. 

“Asmo dragged you here, didn’t he?” His orange eyes flicker darkly. “It’s okay, you can leave. Don’t worry.” 

You wet your lips anxiously and take a few steps toward him. With each step, your chest grows tighter. 

“No, uh… I should talk to you, anyway.” You hesitate. “I’m sorry, Levi. I didn’t want to avoid you. It’s just-...” You cut off abruptly. It was so hard to say it. You didn’t know how to, either. Your chest burns; you can hardly breathe under the current fire of the circumstances. 

Levi shifts in his chair and leans toward you, rubbing his neck. 

“What is it? You realized you don’t want to hang out with a disgusting otaku shut-in like me?” 

The way he says those words, too, is just the worst. Because he sounds like he truly believes it, and knowing him, he probably does. It’s a knife to the chest. Your throat is itching, and you end up coughing again. 

“No, that’s not it…!” You manage to sputter out that much in between your hacking. 

He seems to forget himself as he leaps to his feet and rushes to you, closing the distance between the two of you, and he flusters, his hands flailing in the air as if torn between touching you and restraining himself. 

“Are you alright? Are you sick? I knew something was wrong when I heard you coughing a while back.” 

You glance up at him and your coughing eases for a moment. 

“You heard me coughing?” Your stomach drops in horror. You hadn’t hid it as well as you thought. “Did you tell anyone?” 

He starts to shake his head but then nods. 

“Well, I told Asmo just today.” 

You feel like you’ve kicked yourself in the foot as you start to understand what led up to your confrontation with Levi. 

“So he didn’t hear me in person. He heard it from you.” 

Levi wavers, and his eyes dart back and forth. 

“I guess so. Is that important…?”

You shrug, and another cough sends another object into your mouth again. 

“I mean, I don’t know, um…” 

You let the new entity fall into your hand gingerly. It’s another purple hyacinth, of course. It’s whole this time, too. It’s just tinged with blood this time around the edges, mostly dry. 

When you look at Leviathan, he’s in shock as he looks between the flower and you, confused and horrified. 

“Did you just cough out a flower?!” He blinks. “Oh, wait, this is just like that manga I was reading, about how the main character coughs out flowers when they think their love is unrequited…” 

Damn. It wasn’t surprising he knew, considering his plethora of knowledge for anime and fiction tropes. 

“I guess the cat’s out of the bag,” you admit wryly. 

Levi slumps. 

“So it’s Asmo, huh? That’s why you asked me if I’d told him.” 

You stare at him. Was Levi this slow?

“Levi, it’s not Asmo. I asked you because Asmo figured out what was going on with me, not because I like him.” You laugh. “Are you really this dense?” 

Levi narrows his eyes and crosses his arms. 

“Hey, are you mocking me? I’m not dense! I bet I can guess who it is. Uh…” 

You can’t help but laugh. Despite the current situation, the two of you had easily fallen into the same comfortable banter you used to have, and it’s both a relief and slightly startling. 

“Levi, at this rate, you’re never going to guess who it is.” 

His eyes land on the flower in your hand.

“Wait, I can—just give me a sec… Is that...purple hyacinth?” His eyes look up in thought. “Those represent...apologies and sorrow…? I think they mean, ‘please forgive me.’” He frowns and his face crumples. “Never mind. Just tell me. I’m confused now.” 

You chuckle and slip the flower into your pocket. It was time to tell him. Time to face your fate. Time. 

You admire those orange eyes one last time. Molten orange, with a flame of shadowy purple leaping inside. You comb your gaze through his purple hair. Muted and soft. You read those lips, slightly pink and always so expressive. Finally, you turn your eyes back to his again, which are looking at you in bewilderment.

“Leviathan, please forgive me.”   
  


There’s silence for a while. You can tell he’s still confused but knows better than to just ask. He’s processing. Then, his eyes light up. It’s the time of reckoning. His face turns pink. 

“Wait...does that mean what I think it means…?” He pauses, his cheeks reddening further as he presses his hand to his mouth shyly. “D-Do you...do you maybe li-” He stops, defeated. “Ugh, never mind…” 

You groan inwardly. Levi had always been wishy-washy. You would just have to spell it out for him. 

“Yes. I love you, Leviathan.” 

Those words come out much sharper and matter-of-a-fact than you’d intended. But you can’t take them back. Nor would you want to, anymore. You’ve come too far. 

He’s staring at you in awe. But it doesn’t at least seem to be repulsion, so maybe you have hope, the hope of still staying friends, of maintaining the easy relationship you’d had with him before the entire debacle of this ridiculous and cruel lovesickness had fallen upon you both. 

“Uh, are you sure? I mean, are you talking to the right person? Someone like me? Really? You must be kidding,” he sputters. 

You sigh and take a step back. 

“Levi, it’s true, whether you believe it or not.” You should go. You grasp the door handle and turn and look at him one last time. “Please forgive me,” you muster a weak smile. “I’m sorry.” 

He flounders and comes over, grabbing your wrist. 

“W-Wait, no! Don’t go,” he pleads. Levi’s eyes are open, shining, genuine—something in them is so beautiful, but you’re not sure what it is. “I, uh. I just found it hard to believe. Why are you apologizing, anyway?” 

You turn halfway to look at him and tilt your head as you look him in the eye. Your chest hurts. You want to cough again, but you suppress it. The way you’ve been suppressing your feelings. The way you’ve been suppressing the truth. But you can’t suppress the latter two anymore, not the way you could hold in a cough. Perhaps this had been inevitable; as inevitable as your love that had blossomed for him. 

“I’ve betrayed you.” Those words, heavy and pained, are almost soundless as they leave your lips. “I’ve betrayed our friendship. We were best friends, weren’t we? And then I ruined it. That’s why I’ve been avoiding you,” you confess. “Because it would be so much less painful to be hated by you for what I could control than to be hated by you for what I couldn’t. And I couldn’t stop myself from loving you. I tried, but I couldn’t.” Your voice breaks in the last few words, and you try not to burst into tears again. You didn’t need another waterworks show, and neither did he. 

Levi lets go of your wrist, but he clearly wants you to stay, so you turn fully to face him as you wait for him to respond. He mostly looks stunned, but his face is also bright red. More than you’ve ever seen it before, which is a feat in and of itself. 

“You didn’t betray our friendship,” he says. You search his eyes, and they’re honest. Relief overtakes you, although you’re still waiting for more elaboration. “I would never hate you. I was just...depressed when you were avoiding me. I didn’t hate you. And I don’t hate you now.” He fumbles over his words, but you wait patiently. “I mean, I guess what I’m trying to say is… I love you, too.” His last words come out in a rush, and he hurriedly continues. “Like you said y-you...you couldn’t not love me,” he blushes, “I could never hate you, and I also can’t not love you.” 

You don’t know what to say. It sounds too good to be true. Like what dreams are made of. Although, you’d readily admit that all your dreams recently have been far from lovely or wonderful or anything close to what this moment was bringing you; pure, unbridled joy, only made stronger by the prolonged absence of it previously. The pain in your chest has dissolved, and in its place is a warmth. You bite your lip. 

“Really…? You’re not just saying that to be nice?” 

He nods firmly, still red in the face. He shoves his hands in his pockets. 

“Ugh, I’m the worst at saying these things,” he sighs. “The way you said it sounded like something straight out of an anime, and then I went and ruined the moment.” 

Laughter is bubbling out of you before you know it, and you throw your arms around him, ecstatic. 

“Leviathan, you didn’t ruin anything. I love you, and I thought you were adorable. Like you always are.” 

He’s tense at first, but he also wraps his arms around you. 

“L-Like I always am…?! You’re just saying that, aren’t you?” 

His voice is still doubtful. You sigh. You’d have to work on that with him. _With_ him. The thought sends you over the moon and back. You hug him with renewed strength.

“I wouldn’t just say anything. I promise, I only tell the truth when it comes to you, and you’re the cutest demon in the Devildom. And I love you,” you drag out your last words. 

Levi’s speech is largely incomprehensible, but you do get a few words out of it. 

“I-I love you, too…” He sighs happily into your embrace. “I’m not dreaming, am I? This isn’t an April Fools prank? I’m not getting filmed on the gag comedy show where they trick people and film their reactions?” 

You snicker. 

“Levi, April Fools passed a long time ago. And you’re awake, in case you couldn’t tell. Should I hold you a little tighter?” 

“N-No!” He blurts. “Uh, I mean…! If you hold me any tighter, I might just die of happiness. This is already a lot to handle. I probably used up all the happiness in my life just now.” 

You pull back just a little and see his face drop slightly, but then it’s glowing and red again when you kiss him on the cheek. 

“How about that? Not going to die from that?” 

Levi looks like he’s stopped breathing as he holds you in a fixed state, his eyes glazing over. When he finally does answer, he’s breathless. 

“No, I… I’ll survive, I think…” 

You place a kiss on his other cheek sweetly, joy fluttering in your chest. You can’t stop smiling. 

“Good, because you’re going to have to get used to it from now on. Be prepared.”

**Author's Note:**

> Are you interested in me writing for you? I plan on holding writing raffles for mini-milestones (follower-wise and perhaps for other things too!), so you can try your luck there! You can also read my card!  
> Catch me on Twitter @luxexhomines where I'll hold the writing raffles! I retweet a lot of Obey Me content and art (including NSFW!). I also share some doodles and sneak peeks of WIPs of my writing there~  
> Feel free to send me a message or hang out ♡ You can also reach me on Tumblr @luxexhomines !  
> Also: if you look at my AO3 profile, beware of NSFW & other explicit stuff. Always read the tags before you read the work.


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